


A Particularly Prolonged Penance

by Vampiyaa



Series: Forever and More [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Humor, Mild canon divergence, Post Regeneration, Romance, Serial: s:136 The Twin Dilemma, Sex In A Cave, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1377988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiyaa/pseuds/Vampiyaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six/Rose; Part Six of the Forever and More series. Just as the Sixth Doctor regenerates and nearly kills Peri, Rose materialises inside the console room after using the dimension cannon and stops him. The Doctor then proceeds to leave Peri behind in the TARDIS and drag Rose into 'hermitage' with him on Titan Three, only things don't quite go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Particularly Prolonged Penance

A Particularly Prolonged Penance

Peri Brown watched with a look of horror as a curly-haired stranger stood in her cricketer, celery-wearing Doctor’s clothing, flexing his face at her. With one last eyebrow waggle, he asked airily, “Well, Peri, what do you think?”

“It’s terrible,” she said bluntly.

“Oh, never mind about the clothes, they’re easily changed,” he waved away, apparently not understanding exactly what she was talking about. “What about me?”

“I meant you.”

He cocked his head to the side, frowning at her. “Sorry? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Well, neither do I,” Peri said, nearing hysteria. “I mean, people don’t change like that. I mean, physically, just in a flash.”

“I’m not people, Peri. I happen to be me,” he said knowingly, grinning as though what had just come out of his mouth made perfect sense.

“But why?” Peri whispered.

“Natural metamorphosis,” announced the Doctor dramatically. “A form of rebirth. I call it a renewal, and this time, positive triumph. I can sense it in every fibre of my being.”

“Have you the faintest idea what you look like?” Peri said with disbelief.

“My outward appearance is of no importance whatsoever,” he said lightly.

As if. “Well, it is to me. I have to live with it.” Stepping towards him, Peri stuck her hand into the Doctor’s jacket pocket and began rummaging around, pulling out a compact mirror. “Here, look at yourself.”

“Very well, if you insist,” he sniffed, and held the mirror up to his face, staring hard at his own reflection.

“What do you see?” Peri asked earnestly.

“Ah. A noble brow,” he said, furrowing said brow. “Clear gaze. At least it will be, given a few hours sleep. A firm mouth. A face beaming with a vast intelligence. My dear child, what on Earth are you complaining about?” Handing her back the mirror, he said grandly, “It’s the most extraordinary improvement.”

“On what?” 

“My last incarnation. I was never happy with that one.” He grimaced.

“Why ever not?” Peri gaped, thinking back on her adventure with her blonde Doctor and trying to find a single moment that suggested he wasn’t pleased with his appearance.

“It had a sort of feckless charm, which simply wasn’t me,” said the Doctor airily, and with a rather girlish wave of his hand he strode into the TARDIS.

Groaning to herself, Peri fumed to nobody in particular, “Oh, what absolute rubbish!” Following him into the TARDIS as he strode past the console, she said a bit sadly, “You were almost young. I really liked you. And you were sweet and—”

“Sweet?” he echoed, frowning. “Effete. Sweet? Sweet? Sweet? Huh, that says it all.”

The Doctor strode into the wardrobe room, and Peri gaped after him. What the hell was wrong with him? Whatever this ‘rebirth’ thing was, she was positive he’d been ‘reborn’ into a maniac. Groaning out her frustration, Peri entered the wardrobe room, where the Doctor was striding towards a rack of clothing. 

“Oh, but this has been a timely change!” he said loudly and dramatically, as though speaking on a stage to an audience. “Change. What change? There is no change. No rhyme, no time.” He began rummaging through the rack of clothing, a grimace present on his face, leaving unnoticed the looks of revolted horror and slight fear Peri was shooting him. “No place for space. Nothing. Nothing but the grinding engines of the universe, the crushing boredom of eternity.”

Peri slumped against a pure white robe that reminded her of what a monk would wear, watching him shake his head like a dog trying to dry off before picking his way through various outfits. She opened her mouth to suggest that maybe he should lie down for an hour or two before he whipped out what appeared to be a horrendous beige fur coat. 

“Hmm? No,” he muttered, throwing it down. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Peri asked with concern, just as he pulled out a red velvet smoking jacket from the rack and eyed it curiously. 

“My dear child, stop worrying,” he dismissed her. “Try to understand. Regeneration in my case is a swift but volcanic experience. A kind of violent biological eruption in which the body cells are displaced, changed, renewed and rearranged.” He tried on the smoking jacket before cringing and discarding it on the floor, where it joined the fur coat. “There are bound to be side effects.”

“It won’t happen again?” Peri said hopefully. She wasn’t sure she could take another moment of this right now— the last thing she needed was a repeat.

“Hmm?” he said inquisitively, flexing his biceps and then sucking in his stomach, all the while watching and admiring his reflection in front of a large mirror. “Oh, may indeed, but each time with diminishing effect. You have nothing to fear.”

“Well, next time I’m not going to look,” she mumbled.

“Well, if you find it so upsetting, that would be the most sensible thing to do,” he practically beamed, before bursting out, “Ah ha!”

To Peri’s astonishment, he pulled a multicoloured jacket off another rail and all but beamed at it. He shooed her away with a wave of his hand and she obediently ducked out of the wardrobe room, waiting for him to finish changing. His loud, “Ooh,” gave Peri the signal that it was apparently safe to return, and when she did, all she could do was stare at him. He’d changed from his Edwardian cricketer outfit into the multicoloured coat, where literally every panel was a different colour and pattern. His trousers were mustard coloured with red stripes, his waistcoat was maroon with a plaid patterning and around his neck was a turquoise cravat with white polka dots. Humming happily at his appearance, the Doctor picked up an enamel cat pin from a small box to his left and gladly fastened it to his lapel.

“You’re not serious,” Peri choked out, once she’d found her voice.

“I’m always serious,” he said, and how he could honestly mean that whilst still beaming away like an idiot was beyond her.

“You can’t go out dressed like that,” she told him with a frown.

“Whyever not?” he frowned right back, stroking his lapels.

“You look dreadful,” Peri said bluntly, forsaking politeness on the off chance that he’d change his clothes.

“My dear, that is what people said about Beau Brummell. Remember him?”

“Well, he had taste, a feeling for style,” Peri said crossly.

“And I don’t?” he sniffed.

“Not if what you’re wearing is an example,” she cringed. “It’s, oh, yuck.”

He looked down his nose at her, apparently affronted, and with one last straightening to his polka dot cravat he stalked off into the console room. Peri watched him go before rummaging around through the rack of clothes herself, trying to stave off a fit. It was only a few hours after her blonde-haired, celery-wearing Doctor had changed into this… colourful idiot, and she was already set to burst into tears. What the hell was going on, and why did he have to change? He was nice before, gentle and sweet, and was handsome enough. But this man, who she doubted was even the Doctor at all, was rude and a bit unstable, if you asked her. He’d called it ‘regeneration’ or something, and said it was bound to have side effects, but did that include being a massive jerk and picking out an outfit that made him look like he belonged in the circus? 

Picking out a blue plaid top and green skirt, Peri stripped off her old, dirty clothes, hoping that the ‘side effects’ didn’t also stretch to voyeurism. Plastering a smile on her face, Peri exited the wardrobe room and headed straight for the console room, where the Doctor (right?) was at the console, punching in coordinates.

“Ta da!” she exclaimed, throwing out her arms.

The Doctor blinked at her dazedly, looking up from the console. “Hmm? Yuck,” he added, echoing her earlier comment about his own wardrobe choice.

Peri ignored him and approached him. “Where are we going?”

“Vesta 95,” he replied swiftly, twiddling a dial.

“And where’s that?” Peri asked.

“You’ll soon find out. It’s a marvellous place for a holiday, and you and I both need a rest. I would have taken you to the Eye of Orion, but, er… the coordinates elude me at the moment.” She frowned at him, hoping he knew where Vesta-something was too and wasn’t mistaking the coordinates for some slug planet or something. “Peri,” he said randomly.

“Yes?”

“How did you come by a name like that?”

“It’s the diminutive of my proper name, Perpugilliam,” said Peri earnestly, flushing at her embarrassing name.

“Indeed,” he hummed, before saying dramatically, “‘One morn, a peri at the gate of Eden stood disconsolate.’ Who wrote that?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Peri said, frowning some more.

“Of course you don’t,” he said almost fondly. “You don’t even know what a peri is, do you, Peri?”

“No,” she muttered, scowling. Did he think she was stupid?

“I’ll tell you,” he said, tapping the side of his new nose knowingly and striding towards her. “A peri is a good and beautiful fairy in Persian mythology. The interesting thing is, before it became good, it was evil.” He glared at her. “And that’s what you are. Thoroughly evil.”

“Doctor, stop it!” Peri demanded, backing up from him.

“No,” snapped the Doctor, still approaching her menacingly. “No, not even a fairy. An alien spy, sent here to spy on me. Well, we all know the fate of alien spies.”

He suddenly lunged at her, hands heading straight for neck and wrapping around her throat. Peri’s arm flung out, trying to reach the mirror on the console but missing it by inches, and the two of them tumbled to the floor. The Doctor loomed over her, hands tightening around her throat and snarling face hovering over hers as he choked the life out of her. Out of the corner of her eye, Peri saw a flash of gold before the Doctor’s hands were pried off of her neck by a pair of slender hands. 

As Peri gasped for breath, she sat up and watched with terrified eyes as a blonde woman in her twenties wearing tight, black military clothing pinned the growling, mad Doctor down on the floor with her legs and hands. Restraining his flailing hands down with one hand, the woman whipped out what appeared to be a centimetre-long needle on a ring and jammed it into the Doctor’s jugular. He continued to fight for a brief second, growing weaker until finally he drifted into unconsciousness underneath her. 

“Are you all right?” panted the other woman in a thick, lower class London accent.

Peri rubbed her throat and nodded, clambering off the floor. “Fine, thanks to you.” 

The woman gave a half smile and slipped her ring into her pocket again, climbing off the Doctor and standing up straight. “Who are you?”

“I’m Peri Brown, I’m a friend of the Doctor’s,” she introduced herself.

“Oh, a companion,” said the woman, before outstretching her hand and shaking Peri’s. “Rose Tyler. I’m a companion too, only from the Doctor’s future.”

“The future,” Peri echoed, looking her over. 

Rose nodded, pointing to the leather-cased gadget on her wristband. “Used a dimension cannon to shoot myself across dimensions and then used my vortex manipulator to lock on to the TARDIS.” She glanced down at the Doctor. “I guess it’s the wrong TARDIS. What happened?”

Peri threw up her hands. “He died, and then he just… changed. Into that,” she spat, pointing at the unconscious colourful man on the floor.

Rose frowned at him. “Hold on a moment, that’s the Doctor?” When Peri nodded, Rose let out a snort and said, “When I get back to the future, I’m never gonna let him hear the end of his wardrobe choice.”

“Isn’t it awful?” Peri wrinkled her nose, feeling the first real smile in ages break out on her face.

“Horrid.” Rose made a face. “Is he colour-blind?”

“Good question,” Peri laughed. Then it hit her. “Oh my God, he tried to kill me.” 

“Hey now,” said Rose gently, walking over to the woman and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Regenerations can be tough. S’not the first time he’s been all faulty after changing every cell in his body. Well, maybe it is,” Rose added, frowning. “S’just not the first time for me, anyway. He’ll be all right.”

“Will he stop being such an arse?” Peri couldn’t help but pout.

Rose hesitated, before telling her, “My first Doctor… he was born out of war. So he was gruff and distant. But then when he regenerated, he was bouncing off the walls an’ running his gob like life was a talkin’ contest. My point is, he changes a lot sometimes. But you end up lovin’ him anyway, ‘cos he’s still the Doctor.”

“Really?” said Peri hopefully, before something Rose had said sank in. “Wait a minute, you love him?”

Rose blushed faintly pink and she stepped back a full three metres. “Er, I—”

“You…” gurgled out of the colourful Doctor’s mouth, and Peri and Rose turned to see him staring hard at Rose. “You are just _gorgeous_.” He almost smirked triumphantly when Rose’s already pink cheeks turned crimson. “What happened?” he added almost curiously, heaving himself up off the floor.

“You had another of your fits,” Peri said warily, like she expected him to lunge at her again.

“I don’t have fits,” sniffed the Doctor, tugging at the lapels of his ridiculous jacket.

“Whatever you call them.” Peri rolled her eyes.

“I told you, manic moments of no consequence,” said the Doctor lightly. “They become less dramatic and less and less frequent.”

“It’s true,” Rose assured her, and the Doctor actually preened at having someone to back him up.

“Well this was worse,” said Peri, still looking wary. “Longer. It was horrible.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” he said, waving it off. 

“Exaggerate?” echoed Peri furiously, stomping her foot. “You don’t remember what you did, do you?”

“I must admit I am a little hazy,” the Doctor conceded with an almost thoughtful look. 

“You tried to kill her,” Rose told him gently.

He regarded her with furrowed brows and hooded eyes. “Oh, don’t be absurd, celestial stranger.”

“It’s true,” Peri said, hand on her hip.

“What you say is impossible,” the Doctor said loudly. “I have an inbuilt resistance to any form of violence, except in self-defence.”

“You don’t!” Peri cried with frustration.

“I don’t?” he echoed almost curiously, looking between her and Rose. “Upon my word, you really are frightened, aren’t you?”

“Frightened half to death, and that’s only because I’m not dead already,” Peri whispered, hugging herself as Rose walked over to her and slung a comforting arm over her shoulder.

The Doctor watched them both with a slightly astonished look, looking about the room. “Something’s wrong,” he muttered. “Something’s very wrong. Oh no, has it come to that? Regenerate, yet unregenerate. Oh alas, poor Peri and nameless goddess. Not for us the pleasures of Vesta 95.”

“What are you saying?” Peri said with a trembling lower lip.

“I am a living peril to the universe,” he declared. “If this poor hive is to be cleansed, there’s only one recourse: contemplation. Self-abnegation in some hellish wilderness. Ten days, ten years, a thousand years! Of what consequence is time to me? I shall become a hermit. I know the very place— an asteroid so desolate. Titan Three is where I shall repent!” 

With a last dramatic flair, the Doctor hit the controls and the TARDIS began to shake violently, tossing Peri onto her arse and Rose into the railing. The TARDIS landed with a crash and a creaking groan, and the two dishevelled women picked themselves up off the ground as the Doctor bounced over to the monitor, which showed a bleak, green-tinged landscape. 

“Titan Three,” exclaimed the Doctor. “Thou craggy knob, which swims upon the oceans of the firmament. Receive this weary penitent!” 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” choked Peri.

“Hmm?” hummed the Doctor, glancing in her direction. 

“I’m sorry.”

“And why should you be sorry?”

“I don’t know,” shrieked Peri, wringing her hands. “I don’t know anything any longer! Oh Doctor, please.”

“Yes?” he said airily, beaming away even though his companion looked near tears and Rose had a stance like she expected him to attack her. Which was absurd, really.

“I know what you said, but you weren’t serious, were you?” Rose interrupted Peri before she could speak. “I mean about being a hermit.”

“Never more so,” said the Doctor cheerily, now addressing Rose. “I’ve no need to remind you— you were here, although I’m not quite certain why or how. Now, a hermit needs a hermitage. You and I, my beautiful dear, must find one.” 

“What?” Rose blinked— in a flash, the Doctor lunged forward and seized her hand, before dragging her out of the TARDIS and leaving Peri behind. Rose stumbled onto the barren ground and turned around to see the Doctor happily locking the TARDIS doors behind them, ignoring the pounding and the shouting from Peri on the other end. “What the sodden hell are you doing?”

“Must I remind you again?” he huffed impatiently, slipping his key into his pocket and strolling out towards a mountain of rocks somewhere in the distance. “I, the Doctor, am in need of repentance. You, the positively _divine_ stranger who somehow appeared on my ship, shall be my disciple.”

“Can’t we repent on the TARDIS?” said Rose, hurrying to catch up to his hasty pace. “Isn’t it a good place?”

“Far too good,” sniffed the Doctor. “Quite useless for contemplation. No, what we need is a cave, some utterly comfortless place where you and I can suffer together.”

“Why should I be made to suffer?” asked Rose, stumbling over a stone shaped like a mushroom.

“Because you have been chosen!” he exclaimed. “Your mysterious appearance on the TARDIS is a sign, my darling dear, and one mustn’t ignore signs like that. Not good for the skin.” Rose frowned and opened her mouth to inquire how ignoring signs affected one’s skin, but he rattled on. “It shall be your humble privilege to minister unto my needs. They will be very simple. But nothing must be allowed to interfere with my period of contemplation.”

“You said something about a thousand years?” Rose said hesitantly, hoping he’d been kidding.

“I was speaking figuratively,” the Doctor said simply, leaving Rose’s whooshing sigh of relief unnoticed. “It shouldn’t come to that. Come along, we’re wasting time. I want to hold your hand,” he added sharply, making a leaping grab for the subject of topic and holding it so tightly it almost hurt. 

Rose jumped and blushed, which he also left unnoticed as he tugged her over the rocky terrain. “S’not like I wouldn’t be able to survive a thousand years,” Rose muttered a bit bitterly.

He turned to her abruptly. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rose said quickly, changing the subject. “When we find a cave, what’ll we do in there?”

“Honestly, do you listen at all?” the Doctor sighed. “You shall serve my needs whilst I contemplate and live out my penance. A prolonged penance is in dire need. A particularly prolonged penance for the pilgrim and the person he’s taken prisoner! And all manner of things beginning with ‘p’. Isn’t alliteration wonderful?”

“S’brilliant,” Rose said with a frown. When her Doctor had gone through his faulty regeneration, he’d tried speeding up the TARDIS to the point where it nearly tore off the hull, but that was the only thing remotely close to this Doctor’s point of instability.

“Ah, there we are now!” said the curly-haired Doctor proudly, pointing to the mouth of a cave about five minutes away. “Perfect!” 

Rose wouldn’t call it perfect— she was just hoping the cave didn’t have anything living in it, like some kind of alien bear (or, like one of her previous adventures with her big-eared Doctor, a giant scorpion) or poisonous insects. However, the cave was about the length of a large house, with a relatively flat ground and nothing living in it (hopefully) and a narrowing end a bit like a cone. The Doctor tugged her all the way to the end until she had to duck to stop from hitting her head, where he dropped her hand and then plopped on his rear. 

“Take off your jacket,” Rose suggested.

He frowned at her. “Whatever for?”

“So you can sit on it,” Rose said, cocking her head to the side. “No use having a dirty bum whilst you’re contemplating, yeah?”

The Doctor burst into hysterical giggles, clapping his hands a bit like a child. “Indeed! The horrible consequences of having a soiled bottom.” Rose chuckled as he wriggled out of his absurd multicoloured jacket, revealing a plaid red waistcoat, and manoeuvred it under his bum. Patting the space next to him and motioning for Rose to sit down, he announced grandly, “And now begins our period of atonement!” 

The Doctor shut his eyes dramatically, staying completely still. Rose suppressed yet another annoyed sigh, wondering how long this was going to take and hoping Peri was all right in the TARDIS by herself. Leaning against the bumpy wall, Rose tried to make herself comfortable, since there was no telling how long the Doctor was going to ‘contemplate’.

Ten minutes passed, and Rose’s thoughts wandered behind closed eyes. She heard the Doctor shift for the first time, and when she cracked open an eye to check on him she saw him starting at her intently. Jumping, she said, “What’s the matter?”

“Who are you?” he asked suspiciously.

Rose’s heart soared— finally, a legitimate question. With a tongue-touched smile that for some reason had him stiffening, she said, “My name’s Rose Tyler. I’m a companion in your future.”

“Now why would you come from the future when the past is so _dreadfully_ boring?” he said airily, still frowning. 

Rose chuckled, leaning her head back. “Wasn’t by choice— I’ll tell you that much. Let’s just say, we got separated and I’m trying to find my way back. No more questions, Mister,” she added, when the Doctor opened his mouth to do just that. “Timelines and stuff, remember?”

“Hmm? Ah yes… timelines…” He trailed off, staring at her hard again for a full minute. When she finally began to squirm, his frown deepened to an almost angry expression. “I can’t see yours.”

“Can’t see my what?” Rose asked, sitting up.

“Your timelines,” the Doctor miffed, crossing his arms and pouting like a child. “I can’t see them. Not even a glimpse of them.”

“You explained that to me once, I think,” Rose said slowly, struggling to understand. “S’like, you can sort of see the possibilities that surround a person, yeah?” He nodded curtly. “How come you can’t see mine?” 

“Perhaps my somewhat unstable form at the present moment is affecting my time senses,” he suggested eloquently. “Either that or…” He looked almost startled at his own theory, whatever it was.

“What, Doctor?” she prodded. 

The Doctor didn’t answer her, apparently lost in his own thoughts again. Rose huffed and crossed her arms, muttering something like ‘be that way, then’ and slumping against the wall again. They were silent again for another ten minutes, in which Rose shivered against the coolness of the cave. It’d been pleasantly warm outside, but the wet stone was a good five degrees colder. The Doctor looked up at her shiver. “Are you cold?”

“A bit,” she admitted. “S’cold in here.”

“Come here then,” he said, looking completely innocent as he spread out his arms in a clear invitation. Rose bit her lip— it was exactly like what her Northern Doctor and her pinstriped Doctor would do.

Heaving a sigh and trying not to blush, since this Doctor didn’t know her in the slightest, Rose crawled over to his position and allowed him to wrap his arms around her, tugging her a bit insistently into his multicoloured chest. Her head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck and his chin rested on the top of her head. At least, she thought that was his chin. Maybe it was his nose. She wasn’t sure.

They spent the first minute or so rigid, before Rose decided she was being stupid— this was still the Doctor, and he clearly wanted contact, or else he wouldn’t have suggested it. She relaxed into his hold, snuggling into him and positioning his arms so they covered her like a blanket. He emulated her, tightening his grip on her, and for a moment Rose could close her eyes and pretend she was in the arms of her pinstriped Doctor.

“Why are you so goddamn beautiful?” he asked almost airily.

She blushed harder than she ever had in her life — harder than the time the Doctor had accidentally landed the TARDIS in the middle of an alien orgy — and hid her face in his jacket, trying to remind herself that he wasn’t in his right mind. “Er, I dunno how to answer that.”

“Are you an angel?” 

“No, Doctor, ‘m not an angel,” Rose chuckled, patting him on the chest fondly. “Just a shop girl from London who got lucky enough to find you.” 

“If you’re a shop girl, why are you wearing military clothes?” the Doctor pointed out, trailing his hand down her leather-clad arm. 

She suppressed a shiver. “Should have said _former_ shop girl turned field agent.” To stop him from asking more questions about her, Rose added, “Is Peri going to be okay in the TARDIS?”

“Who?” he mumbled hazily.

Rose opened her mouth to scoff and remind him that Peri was his _companion_ , but an odd noise stopped her. Was he… smelling her? Involuntarily, a stab of arousal zapped down to her belly and he stiffened, almost as if he knew. But how could he? “Y-your companion,” she stammered, pushing all of that aside and trying to focus on the conversation.

“Com-pan-ion,” he repeated slowly, as though testing the syllables out. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply— yep, he was definitely smelling her. “You smell like vanilla and time.”

“Thank you, I think,” Rose said embarrassedly, before adding to try and keep him talking, “You locked Peri in the TARDIS, remember?”

He didn’t answer beyond a gentle hum into her hair. This was getting a little too weird for Rose— she tried getting up and untangling herself from his hold, but he muttered, “Mine,” and dragged her back down into his lap, ravelling himself around her to the point where he tangled his leg around hers and used it to press her closer right onto his partial erection. 

“Doctor,” she gasped out. Holy fuck, he was hard. 

“Rose,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck. “My Rose.”

“Doctor, let go,” Rose said, trying to sound firm but ending up sounding breathless. 

“You’ll leave,” the Doctor mumbled against the skin of her throat. 

“‘M not gonna leave, Doctor,” Rose assured him, feeling another shot of lust at the feeling of his mouth on her neck. 

He breathed in deeply again and sighed out, “ _Hnnh_ ,” before grabbing her hips with his hands and pressing her harder against — oh _fuck_ — his now full-fledged erection. An ‘oh’ flung itself unbidden from her throat and on instinct she rocked her hips backward, and he let out another helpless noise that sounded somewhat like, “Ugghh…” Was he groaning? 

Forcing her hips to still, Rose grabbed the hands on her waist and tried to pry them off. He cooperated at once, only to twine his fingers with hers and drag one up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. It was such a sweet gesture that Rose felt tears prick her eyes, and the image of her pinstriped Doctor on Darlig Ulv Stranden, disappearing before he could say _those_ words, popped into her mind. 

The moment disappeared when he suddenly flipped them around with speed and grace only a Time Lord could master, so that she was lying on her back on his rainbow coat and he was straddling her. Rose grunted when her back hit the ground, and the only glimpse of his eyes she got was a split second — pupils so wide they were almost black, blocking out the blue-green of his irises — before all she could see was his sandy hair as he dove down and latched his mouth onto her neck. What the sodden _hell_? First he tried to kill his companion, forgot doing it, babbled about like he thought he was Lord Byron or something and then he gets randy?! She wondered if there were specific stages to regeneration sickness before he started to nibble.

“Doctor, stop,” Rose whimpered, hands on his shoulders trying to push him off a bit weakly. 

“Don’t wanna,” he groaned against her throat, rutting his hips against hers and _damn it_ , she wasn’t supposed to like that, not when he was compromised like this. “Feels good.” His admittance sent heat straight to her core, and he breathed in deeply again and shuddered on top of her. “Rassilon, I can smell how much you want me.”

_Oh fuck._

She wondered if it was just this new body that could apparently smell her, or if it was a standard Time Lord thing (Rose sincerely hoped for the former, since there had been several moments in her travels with the Doctor where she’d wanted to jump his bones, like when he was all ears and leather and she had that fantasy of sucking him off while he tinkered under the console— _not the time_ , she told herself firmly). Then she realised his hands were trying to tug off her Torchwood jacket, and she let go of his shoulders to bat his hands away. “Doctor, you’re sick.” 

“No I’m not,” he protested, pouting when she stopped him from pulling her shirt off a second time.

She let out a mirthless chuckle. “Believe me, Doctor, you wouldn’t be doin’ this if you weren’t.” 

He pulled his face away from her neck and stared at her, eyes hooded with lust and confusion. “Don’t we do this in the future?”

“No.” Rose frowned. “What made you think that?”

“I’m going to marry you,” he said bluntly, eyes now flickering between her face and her mouth. 

That was definitely not the answer she’d expected, under any circumstances. Gaping at him for an extended moment, she managed to say, “Where did you get that impression, exactly?”

“Your timelines,” the Doctor said, now staring fully at her lips and nowhere else. “The only way I wouldn’t be able to see them is if they bond with mine in the future.”

“And… getting married would do that?” Rose blinked.

“Well, I say ‘marriage’ but it’s really more of a ‘joining of minds’— what Gallifreyans call ‘marriage’ in loose terms, anyway. Arranged marriages happen all the time on Gallifrey without bonding. As a matter of fact—”

He was rambling now. Rose shut him up by grabbing his face with both hands, hauling him down and dragging his mouth to hers. He stopped talking at once and kissed her back so forcefully their nose and cheeks mashed together and her head pressed into the rocky floor. This time she let him tug off her jacket and toss it into the corner before starting on her vest top. She made to get rid of the silly polka dot cravat and undo his cuffs (honestly, how many different patterns and colours did one person need?) just as he tossed her top in the corner and slid his hands from her stomach to her breasts; as he did so, he made high pitched whimpering noises that in any other circumstance would have made Rose laugh.

One by one, clothes were shed, Rose spending a full five minutes trying to wrestle his waistcoat off of him (stupid buttons) and the Doctor getting distracted when he managed to figure out how to undo her bra and discovered the noises she made when he sucked on her nipples. Eventually the Doctor got so impatient he batted her hands away and peeled down her tight black leggings and lace knickers simultaneously. 

“Beautiful…” she barely heard him murmur, and tears welled up in her eyes again— did he really think that?

“For a human,” Rose mumbled fondly, answering her own question.

He didn’t seem to hear her, too busy trying to undo his striped yellow trousers with shaking hands. She swatted his hands out of the way just as he had done to hers and undid the zip slowly, dragging it down tooth by tooth and brushing against him until she had the Doctor practically sobbing, “Please, Rose…”

The Doctor wanting her beyond the confines of her own imagination had to be the best thing in the universe. Nodding, she wrapped a hand around him — he groaned long and loud at that — and guided him to her centre, and in one swift and strong push he was buried inside her. The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut and kicked his head back from the sheer pleasure of it all and _fuck_ , she almost came right then at how goddamn sexy that was. He didn’t wait for her to adjust or anything like most men did but at the same time didn’t start pounding into her savagely like she’d expected— instead he slid in and out of her with long, smooth strokes and panted raggedly with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist to bring him deeper, clinging to his back and burying her face into his shoulder. 

“Oh _Rose_ ,” he breathed, when she angled her hips so he’d slide even deeper. “You’re so… _Rose_ ,” he finished, because there really was no better word for it at the moment. 

His moans were getting closer together and his thrusts sloppier, so Rose snaked a hand between them to try and help herself along; before she could do anything he swatted her hand away and did it for her, using his index and middle finger to rub her clit until she was shuddering and crying out for him. To both of their astonishment, she came first, clenching around his cock and shouting his name so loudly it reverberated against the cave walls. He was _almost_ there— he just needed one… two… three more… then he was coming with a feral groaning sound and a gasped out, “Oh _God_.”

The Doctor collapsed unceremoniously on top of her, his softening cock still sheathed inside her. Rose wondered how the hell she’d gone from being thrilled when she’d used her vortex manipulator and successfully locked onto the TARDIS, to stopping a rainbow Doctor from strangling his companion, to being dragged into ‘hermitage’ with him and then to being shagged by him in a cave. The things she put up with for this bloke. She clung to him, humming lazily into his neck, still revelling in the pleasantly relaxed feeling brought on post-orgasm. Then she froze as he continued to pant into her neck— was he going to regret this once he came into his right mind? Rose had always gotten the impression he’d grow to regret ‘overstepping boundaries’ or something if anything ever happened between them. 

Instead, he sleepily lifted his head and snogged her thoroughly, before pulling back and beaming, “ _That_ was brilliant.”

Rose breathed a sigh of relief and succumbed into giggles, running her fingers through his sandy hair just because she could. “Yeah, it was.”

The Doctor hummed in unison before scooting up so he could spoon her, their fronts pressing together and noses nearly touching. He honest-to-goodness _giggled_ when he rubbed the tip of his nose with hers, and she rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to call him an overgrown child. “Why don’t we do this in the future?”

“No fishing for future information,” she scolded with a stern look punctuated by her content smile.

“I’ll have to forget this to maintain timeliness, until we’re properly in sync again,” he assured her.

Rose looked him over with scrutiny, but he didn’t seem to by lying. “We just… we’re mates, is all,” she mumbled, ducking her head a bit and running her hands through his hair again.

“Do you love me?” he asked, voice tiny and quiet like a child afraid to ask for fear of getting scolded. 

She stopped tugging at his curls and smiled at him. “I do love you, Doctor.” A beam burst out across his face. “I love every you. Could do without this one’s colour fetish—”

He tried to scowl and failed. “What is wrong with my outfit? I think I look dashing.”

“You’re an explosion in a rainbow factory,” Rose giggled.

“Thank you,” he said grumpily, and Rose’s laughter doubled. 

“Anytime,” she grinned, tongue in teeth. “Can I get dressed now? It’s bloody freezing in here.” 

He pouted at the prospect of her covering herself up, but obediently got up with her so they could both pull on their clothes, one of them colourless, the other looking like a paint thief. He finished dressing before she did, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently whilst Rose pulled her shirt back on, and once she was fully dressed he swept her into a giant hug.

“How are we ‘just mates’ when you’re so goddamn beautiful?” he asked, with the air of one commenting on the weather. 

She buried her flaming face in his ridiculous jacket. “Things in the future are different. For one thing, you’re not colour blind,” Rose added, and he pulled back and scowled at her half-heartedly. She suddenly spotted a cat-shaped pin fastened to his lapel and gaped at it. “Why on Earth do you have a cat pin on your coat?”

“Whyever not?” he frowned, wondering why she was so astonished.

“You _hate_ cats!” 

He drew himself up. “Do not! Cats are wonderful creatures. Fluffy and soft, stubborn as hell… rather like someone that comes to mind,” he grinned down at her.

She grinned back, tongue in teeth. “Just never trust one in a nun’s wimple.” Before he could so much as frown, she added, “So, can we return to the TARDIS?”

He actually seemed to contemplate it for a moment. “Yes, I believe our period of repentance has been properly served.” He blanched. “Oh dear, I’ve left Peri in the TARDIS!”

“We were only gone, like, two hours,” Rose pointed out, as he grabbed her hand and began to drag her out of the cave. 

“Yes, but…” He ducked his sandy head in shame. “I tried to kill her.”

Rose hugged his arm as best she could still walking. “You weren’t in your right mind. Peri knows that.”

The Doctor smiled down at her endearingly, and they had to stop walking again so he could tug her into a tight hug. “Rose Tyler, I can’t wait to marry you.”

She blushed with flattery and excitement— neither could she. They resumed walking, practically draped over one another, the Doctor beaming goofily at nothing in particular. When they reached the TARDIS, Rose proudly used her own key to reopen the TARDIS doors (and no, he did not preen at that… okay, maybe a little). Peri was sitting by the console with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, stark white and looking terrified. She jumped up when Rose entered, a sheepish-looking Doctor tailing her. 

“Where have you _been_?!” Peri all but wailed, actually clutching at her skirt. “It’s been hours!” 

“The Doctor and I… contemplated,” Rose said, trying to keep her voice even and not snicker as the Doctor hid his blushing face in his hands. “He’s all right now, Peri,” she added reassuringly.

To what was clearly the Doctor’s immense relief, Peri sagged against the console, clutching at her heart, and said, “Thank God!” 

“Yes, I do apologise for giving you such a fright, Peri,” said the Doctor, somehow managing to bounce over to his companion and give her a hug whilst still holding on to Rose’s hand for dear life. “Regeneration can be a tricky process.”

“Rose said so,” Peri nodded, and the Doctor gaped at her.

“I regenerated with you as well?” he asked in astonishment. 

“Maybe,” she said vaguely, before grinning at his putout expression. “Anyway, I should get back to the future.”

The Doctor’s face fell for the briefest moment before flicking back to joviality like a switch. _Well, isn’t that familiar?_ “Indeed! Timelines to maintain, people to marry!” The two of them beamed at each other like idiots and flushed, making Peri feel a bit left out. “I shall see you when I meet you, Rose Tyler.” 

“What?” Peri said confusedly. 

Rose seemed to get it, though, because she giggled happily and gave the Doctor one last gigantic hug and a tongue-in-teeth grin. Stepping back, Rose pressed the button on her vortex manipulator and vanished in a stream of gold. Peri glanced up at the Doctor, who was still grinning away like he’d just gotten shagged. Wait…

“Uh, Doctor, who is she to you?” Peri asked hollowly, blushing crimson and forcing the image of them in a cave together doing… _that_ … out of her mind.

With a happy hum and an almost proud grin, he said, “She’s my wife.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Beta and almost-birthday girl: natural-blues**.  
>  **All my fics can be found on fanfiction.net, teaspoon and tumblr**.  
>  A/N: Sixth installment in the Forever and More series and an early birthday gift for my fabulous beta, natural-blues :) Isn't it crazy that it's been a little over two months and we're already halfway through the series?  
> Lil note: Rose's comment about the Sixth Doctor being 'an explosion in a rainbow factory' was actually a quote by Colin Baker himself about his character. The paint thief thing was me XD The next story will, yes, be a Seven/Rose story (another AU) and will be posted soon; and for the love of Rassilon, people, YES, there will be an 8.5/Rose and a 12/Rose story in this series too! This series is Every!Doctor/Rose.


End file.
